


Domesticity.

by itsahardyparty



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Championship Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Multiple One-Shots, One Shot, this is all very adorable and domestic okay leave me alone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 01:17:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6263818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsahardyparty/pseuds/itsahardyparty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a bunch of one-shots. Lots of cute fluffy shit, cause I'm in a 'cute fluffy shit' mood. Each chapter is a new escapade. Feel free to request a couple or situation!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Let's Put the X in..." (Raven/Sandman)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xbrokendollzx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xbrokendollzx/gifts).



"Listen. _Listen!_ I don't care how much you "like" it, "Let's Put the X in Sex" is the worst fucking song of all time--KISS is drivel! I thought you were  _better_ than that, Jimmy."

Jimmy's eyes narrowed, and he eventually raised his hands defensively. " _Look._ I ain't sayin' its a  _good_ song or nothin', I just...it's kinda catchy, okay?"

Scott shaking his head indicated that no, it was not okay.

"Don't give me that look."

"I am severely disappointed in you."

"Yeah?  **WHY?** "

"Because KISS is like, glam-punk-bubblegum pop or whatever-the-fuck, but it is not actually  _metal_."

"Oh,  _HERE WE FUCKIN' GO, RIGHT SCOTTY? HERE WE FUCKIN' GO. THE "REAL" METAL, RIGHT SCOTTY?!"_

"They can't just throw around the claim that they're a metal group and come out with  _dog shit of that caliber_."

""Of that caliber"! Do you even hear yourself when you talk, you drugged up good for nothin' bird-brained bastard?!" 

"Don't get your panties in a twist just because KISS is shit and you  _know it_."

Jimmy was silent for a few seconds, before he slowly turned to Scott. "...stop the car."

"What? Why?"

" _Stop the car, I am getting out!"_

It was probably a pretty shitty idea, but Scott did slow to a stop in the middle of the dusty highway. Jimmy promptly grabbed the beak of his red, backward-turned baseball cap, and threw it at Scott's face before throwing the car door open and getting out. And then he started walking. 

Scott sped up to a roll, rolling down the passenger side window so he could stare at the side of a very determined-looking Jimmy's head.

"Okay, what in the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"I am  _walking_."

Scott rolled his eyes. "I can  _see_ that. Where the hell do you intend to go?"

"Where do you think, genius? Salt Lake City."

"You are not  _walking_ to  _Salt Lake City_."

"Who's gonna stop me? Hmmm?"

Ohh, he shouldn't have said that. Scott threw the car into park, vaulted over the gear shift, and tackled Jimmy to the ground. They scuffled around like that for a while: a tangle of arms and legs, a more-than-healthy amount of grunting, and a lot of Jimmy shouting out protests as he choked on dust. Jimmy would never, ever admit it, but Scott had him pinned down properly in about a minute flat. It was unclear whether he'd actually been overpowered, or whether Jimmy had just given up, but either way, he was huffing about and Scott was straddling his stomach.

"...get back in the car."

"As soon as you get yourself off my chest and that stick outcha ass, Boy Genius."

Scott snorted and cuffed the back of Jimmy's head lightly as he got up, still staring at the Philadelphia native warily.

"You can stop lookin' at me like I'm Public Enemy #1, pal. My hat and my Cheetos are in your shitty excuse for a car anyway."

"Fine. Get in, you little bastard," Scott huffed, climbing back into the car and watching carefully as Jimmy did the same.

"...if I don't get to listen to that song I'm  _walking_."

"...fine," Scott forced out between gritted teeth, clenching his fists against the steering wheel as he pushed the car back up to highway-speed and activated the cruise control once he hit 75 mph, even allowing himself to recline in his seat. Okay, maybe the song wasn't  _that_ terrible...

"Oooh yeah, Love's like a muscle and ya make me wanna  **flex**..."

...Jimmy.

was.

_SINGING._

" _ **GET OUT OF THIS CAR!"**_


	2. Exhaustion. (Undertaker/Jeff)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark is tired and Jeff absolutely refuses to leave him alone.

"Hey. Could you help me with four across?"

Mark glanced at the digital clock. 3:02. It was 3:02 in the damn morning.

" _No,_ I cannot help you with four across. Go to  _sleep_."

"I can't sleep."

"Have you  _tried_?"

"I have insomnia."

Mark rolled his eyes. That was the little fucker's excuse for  _everything,_ but mainly waking him up at three am because he needed help with a fuckin' crossword puzzle. He'd never admit it, but Mark had actually been awake. When Jeff got wired like this...it  ~~worried~~ him. "I know, I know," the Texan grunted, frowning a little as Jeff set the book down and turned his flashlight off. "...if you want you can go downstairs. Watching a movie or something usually helps, right?"

"I already tried," Jeff lamented softly. Jesus, he sounded so  _sad_. No  _wonder_ the kid was always falling asleep in weird places. "I watched  _The Shining_ and it ended at one, and then I came up here."

Mark sat up.  _The Shining_   **always** put Jeff to sleep. It was the slowest, most plot centered movie he knew that could still keep Jeff engaged. He had even fallen asleep during the climax once. If that goddamn movie couldn't put the poor little bastard to sleep...

A soft sigh slid past Mark's lips and he groped around in the dark until he found the back of Jeff's neck. He ignored the blond's surprised little squeak in favor of yanking him forward to kiss his forehead, running a thumb over the nape of his neck softly. "C'mere," he grunted, and Jeff scooted closer until Mark's arm was settled comfortably around him. "I mean...there are  _other_ ways to tire you out."

Jeff grinned. "No thanks."

And just like that, Mark almost  _recoiled_ , yanking his arm back. "What do you mean?"

"It's nothing against you, I just don't feel like it." The blond shrugged his shoulders innocently. 

Didn't  _feel_ like it? Jeff had the single highest libido of anybody he'd ever met in his entire life. And he had once dated  _Shawn fuckin' Michaels_. 'Didn't feel like it' his ass. Because when he  _did_ feel like it, he was an absolutely insufferable little pain in the ass of a brat who--

Mark's internal tirade stopped when his gaze settled on Jeff, who was rubbing his eyes and had just let out an absolutely  _kittenish_ yawn.

Maybe he was being too hard on the little fucker. It had to have been some kinda struggle for that little body of his, to be so tired and just not able to sleep...even if it  _was_ already in the wee hours of the morning.

Green eyes watched as the colorful head settled gently against his chest, and that pale, lithe little body he enjoyed so much curled up close to him. Mark suddenly realized why he liked these cool August nights so much. It was warm enough to sleep in just sweatpants, but still cool enough to want to share body heat. Yeah, he wanted it to be August forever. "Is there anything you think could help?" he rumbled against the part in Jeff's hair gently, sliding a large hand down the fine curve of Jeff's spine.

"I...no."

"...you're a little liar. Tell me."

"No. It's stupid."

"...listen. I'll do it if you really think it'll help, okay?"

Jeff sighed quietly, blinking up at Mark through the little amount of light that persisted through the drawn shades. "...can you read to me?"

The Texan shot his boyfriend a rather skeptical look. " _Read_ to you?"

"Yeah, I don't know, I just...your voice is  _soothing_ or whatever--"

Mark grabbed the Poe novel he'd started re-reading for the umpteenth time off the nightstand, tugging Jeff closer against his side. "Which one."

"Tell-Tale Heart!" Jeff piped up immediately, grinning in anticipation as Mark flicked the bedside lamp on. 

Mark forgot that his voice was supposed to be "soothing" about halfway through, and began reading silently instead. But it was okay, because Jeff hadn't even made it  _that_ far.


	3. Cerberus, Guardian of Hades. (Jeff/Undertaker)

Jeff glanced up from where he was reading on the couch as he heard the door open, and immediately did a double-take.

Mark was standing in the doorway, a grey-brown pitbull puppy that couldn't have been more than a few weeks old cradled in one large arm. He had a slightly vacant look on his face, as if he still wasn't sure how the hell he'd gotten to this point.

"Is that a dog?" Jeff asked, setting his book down and now leaning over the back of the couch to get a better look at the little creature. It was adorable, he'd definitely give it that. Floppy lil' ears, big green eyes, it was fuckin'  _precious_.

The Texan grunted in affirmation, jostling the little animal gently as if to say "are you stupid? Of  **course** it's a dog."

The pup yipped, and Jeff grinned. He'd always thought that Mark would hate puppies--which was pretty fair, because Mark hated  _everything_. He was not a happy human being; in fact, other people's misery and his Titan seemed to be the only things that brought him actual joy. 

"He got a name?"

"Cerberus."

The puppy yipped again, and Jeff cocked a quizzical eyebrow. "As in the guardian of Hell, Cerberus?"

"Hades."

"You know what I fuckin' meant, ya nerd."

Mark set Cerberus down on the floor, watching curiously as he set off at a wobbly little run and trotted over to Jeff, ears flapping behind him and tongue hanging out of his mouth. The purple-haired boy grinned and scooped the animal up, rubbing his ears and giggling as Cerberus let out a happy little yap and curled up in Jeff's lap.

...he'd gushed a little to Cerberus in the car, not that he'd ever admit that for as long as he lived.

He'd put the seatbelt on him, and showed him a picture of Jeff, who he'd aptly introduced to Cerberus as "Mommy." And he'd thought that would be the end of it, right?  _No. Never._ He'd gone on, and on, and  _on._ It was absolutely pathetic.

"Where did you get him at, anyway?"

"I don't know." 

Well, that was a lie.

An oldish lady had grabbed him and dragged him into a pet store, and he had insisted that he did not  _want_ a pet, because he  _hated_ animals, and--

Well, the little fuckin' thing had up and put his lil' paw on Mark's boot. And then he couldn't  _not_ take it home, right? Like, what did it even want from his life anyway? And then he'd jokingly called it Cerberus, and the god damn fuckin' thing had yipped. Like it  _agreed_. And then it  _smiled_ at him. And he melted like a fucking little bitch.

Jeff, on the other hand, appeared to be endlessly entertained that his boyfriend--his seven foot tall, three hundred pound, Texan, biker-gang-leader boyfriend--had not only spontaneously appeared with a very young puppy, but was also  _refusing_ to disclose where he had found it, or even  _why_ he'd decided to get it. Mark was clearly trying very hard to salvage his pride, but if Jeff had anything to do with it? That wasn't going to happen.

"He house-trained?" the North Carolinian asked casually. "Know any commands?"

"I think so, the woman said--"

"So you  _DID_ buy him at a pet store!" Jeff accused, pointing a finger at him.

" _ **FUCK OFF, HARDY**_ _ **!**_ " Mark roared, any pride he had now thoroughly demolished.

After a few moments of silence(which mainly consisted of Mark staring at Jeff with pure loathing in his eyes, and Jeff staring back like the cat that had eaten the canary), Mark pushed his hands into his pockets. 

"...I am tryina teach him a new command though."

Jeff raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, what's that?"

Mark narrowed his eyes and pointed at Jeff. "Cerberus.  _Loathe_."

Cerberus hopped up on Jeff's chest, yawned, and licked his cheeks.

"... _loathe_ , huh?" Jeff asked, still grinning over his shoulder at Mark.

"...we're still working on it," he grumbled.


End file.
